


Hugs

by smile_for_me



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Boys Kissing, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Hugging, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, iwaoi - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-14 11:15:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7168811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smile_for_me/pseuds/smile_for_me
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hajime had known since they were kids that he would do anything for Oikawa, even if that meant embarrassing himself.</p>
<p>Which was why he didn't hesitate to ask for a hug, even if it was out of character for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hugs

Hajime scuffed his shoes on the side of the curb as he and Oikawa waited for the light to turn so they could cross the street. They were halfway done with their walk home from the school and neither of them had said a word since saying goodbye to the team. 

That was it. The end of their high school careers. And they had lost. It would have been different if they had won--much happier and more exciting. This was fine, though. Oikawa had enough offers from colleges that weren’t contingent on Aoba Johsai winning. Hajime wasn’t planning on pursuing volleyball any further. It was fine. This was fine. 

Except that it wasn’t. 

Losing to Shiratorizawa would have been one thing, but losing the Karasuno was a different defeat. Losing to _Kageyama_ was a possibly fatal blow to Oikawa. 

Kageyama had almost broken Oikawa completely in junior high. Kageyama, who oozed talent and technique, effortlessly offering up perfect tosses. Kageyama, whose only problem was finding a spiker to match his nearly impossible--albeit incredible--toss. 

Oikawa had fallen apart, had met his match in the quiet boy who just wanted to learn his senpai’s serve. Oikawa, who fought tooth and nail for skill, who pushed himself past his limit time and time again. Oikawa, who was charming and beautiful beyond all belief but was also hopelessly insecure and relentlessly needy. 

Oikawa, Hajime’s best friend. 

Hajime was afraid--terrified that their loss would crush Oikawa, terrified that it already had, terrified that Hajime wouldn’t be able to put him back together. 

He looked over at his friend standing next to him, taking in his forward-set eyes and slightly drooped shoulders. It was easy for him to read Oikawa. Having known him for so many years meant that he knew what the minute changes in his expression and posture meant; he knew what Oikawa was feeling when his fingers twisted together or his toes turned toward each other as he stood. Hajime could tell when Oikawa needed to stop and give his knee--or his mind--a break. He knew when Oikawa was ignoring sleep in favor of watching games and strategizing. Hajime knew when he needed to step in and invite Oikawa over for the weekend to make sure he ate and slept and wasn’t working himself into the ground. 

Hajime watched Oikawa closer than anyone else, and he made the call himself to either step in and push him into bed or stay back and let him continue on.

Hajime knew Oikawa. And, right now, he knew that the setter was heartbroken, even if he was trying not to show it.

They crossed the street in the same companionable silence and continued walking. It stayed that way until they reached Hajime’s street, and the pair stopped where they always did to separate when they were going to their own houses. 

Oikawa stopped, his chin tucking down to look at his feet. “Iwa-” he started to say, Hajime cut him off, saying,

“I need a hug.”

The look Oikawa gave him was so open that Hajime could see the inner workings of his mind for a brief moment--the anger and confusion and sadness. Hajime knew that the request was out of character for him, but he had known since they were kids that he would do anything for Oikawa, even if that meant embarrassing himself. Right now, Oikawa needed a hug--maybe even more comfort than that--but he would never ask that. Especially not now. So Hajime asked for him. Their eyes locked for a few seconds, Oikawa searching doubtfully and Hajime firm and honest.

Finally, Oikawa fell into him, his arms wrapping around Hajime’s neck as he whispered a soft, “Iwa-chan.”

Hajime returned the hug with practiced arms, setting his stance so he could support Oikawa’s weight and wrapping his arms around the taller boy’s middle as Oikawa tucked his face into the side of his neck. Staying silent, he allowed his face to be smushed into Oikawa’s shoulder and listened to his best friend’s stuttered breathing. The only indications that Oikawa was crying was the warm wetness that came in contact with Hajime’s neck and dripped downwards, as well as the heaving movements underneath Hajime’s hands and against his chest.

Hajime had cried at the gym with the rest of the team. He had taken the comfort of hands slapped against his back and had moved on from the tears, but apparently not completely, he thought as his eyes stung with tears disappearing into Oikawa’s jersey. 

How long they stood there, Hajime couldn’t say. However long it took for his arms to go numb and his neck to become covered in slick, warm tears. However long it took for Oikawa’s breathing to come in steady sighs against his collarbone and his hands to move from clenched in the fabric of Hajime’s jersey to gently pushing through his hair. 

An indeterminate amount of time after that was when Oikawa pulled back, his feet moving barely a half-step away, leaving a minute amount of space between their faces. 

“Hajime,” he whispered, and he said Hajime’s name like it was a prayer, like it was precious, like it was his reason for living.

“Tooru,” Hajime reciprocated, his entire world the dark brown of Oikawa’s eyes, the gentle slope of his nose, the soft curve of his jaw. 

His perfect lips parted and Hajime suddenly realized that he couldn’t let Oikawa do this. He had always had some sense of what Oikawa would say before the said it, but this time Hajime _knew_ what words would come from Oikawa’s mouth, and--for maybe the first time ever--he wanted to say them first. 

Of course, Hajime’s mouth didn’t seem to be working and so instead of speaking, his brain decided the best solution was instead to lean forward and silence him with his lips. 

The kiss was abrupt but nice. There was no hesitation, no five seconds Hajime had to wait for Oikawa to reciprocate. It was just the soft press of Oikawa’s perfect lips against Hajime’s inferior ones. But, Oikawa didn’t kiss him like he was inferior. Oikawa kissed him like it was easier than breathing, like everything he had ever done had been in preparation for this moment. 

Their lips pulled apart, but it was like they were still together; a single entity split into two bodies. Hajime thought that maybe it had always been that way, but now it was more evident than ever. Oikawa-- _Tooru_ had always been a part of him, but this was a completely different thing; this was like he had torn open his chest and pulled out his heart, given it as an offering, and not only had Tooru accepted, he had returned the gesture. 

Hajime’s eyes opened, and he was greeted by Tooru’s eyes opened and waiting. They were wet with tears and wide with hope and Hajime simultaneously wanted to kiss him again and slap the stupid expression off his face. 

“Iwa-chan…” Oikawa whispered as Hajime breathed out:

“I love you.”

That’s how easy it was: like breathing. And looking back now, maybe it was so easy because he had practiced in his head over and over--when they were six and Oikawa showed up at Hajime’s house in his alien pajamas at lunchtime because he refused to take them off, when they were eight and Oikawa shared the volleyball his older sister had given him for his birthday, when they were eleven and Oikawa dragged him to volleyball tryouts with more enthusiasm than anyone should have, when they were fourteen and Oikawa cried as they left junior high, and now when they were seventeen and crying over their last lost, their final game. 

The smile Oikawa gave him was watery but blinding.

“I love you too, Hajime,” he answered, leaning in to kiss him again.

When they pulled apart this time, they were both smiling and giggling in short fits under their breaths, their faces still close. 

“Come over,” Hajime whispered, their noses knocking together lightly.

“Okay,” Tooru answered.

And that was the end of it. They walked down Hajime’s street to his house, their footsteps close to each other and their fingers twisted together, almost hidden by their bodies as they gently ran into each other, moving closer with each step.

They didn’t talk about it, and they probably never would--it’s not like they needed to. They were a pair, after all, inseparable since they met--though whether by choice or by design was a mystery. 

What Hajime knew was the fact that they were together, and that was the way it had always been and always would be. And that night, when they fell into his bed together, Hajime knew that Tooru would be okay as long as he was there to hold the setter together.


End file.
